Malfunctioning Mechanoid
by marciko322
Summary: One of the Outsiders managed to dig into an old bunker that contained a centipede... fortunately, it turned out to be friendly.
1. Meet & Greet

**All rights to Rimworld belong to Tynan Sylvester and Ludeon Studios.**

* * *

The centipede stood staring at the caskets in the bunker again, for the umpteenth time. It was waiting, though for what, it did not know. All it knew was that it was waiting. It simply stood, completely still, watching and waiting. Its internal clock ticked onward, from one second to the next, quadrum to quadrum, year in, year out.

It had been waiting for a long time. Since its creation, it had apparently been waiting for two thousand, three hundred and six years, two quadrums and three days. It did not know what it was waiting for, but it assumed that it must have been important, for it to have waited that long. So it kept waiting, watching the caskets, inferno cannon welded to its second body ring for emergencies, or if the bugs started nesting again.

An alert chimed in the centipede's mind, informing it that its maintenance cycle had been overdue for nine hundred and forty-two years, but it did not care. It only had to watch over the caskets. It did not care about its body. The body was not important. Only the caskets were important.

Besides, it wouldn't have been able to activate it regardless. The panel had vanished from its mind some thousand years ago, probably an oversight by its creator. It could not repair itself any longer, and time had begun to take its toll on the machine. The mechanites were falling into disrepair without concrete orders to maintain themselves, and were slowly falling apart, losing cohesion. Sooner or later, the giant mech was sure to follow.

But it did not care. It only cared about the caskets. It did not care about itself, or the time, or what it was waiting for. Sometimes, when it looked back through the archive, it forgot to care even about the caskets, but eventually it always snapped out of it, and returned to its caretaker role. Sometimes, even then, some small part of it stayed behind, dulling its processing, causing it to malfunction oddly. But when it tried to perform a diagnostic, it would be reminded that the panel was still missing, and the errors remained.

But the centipede did not care. It only stood facing the caskets, staring at them. And it waited.

…

The bunker had been breached. The ceiling had caved in, the roof finally relenting to the mountains above it, and about a third of the bunker was now under rocks. Fortunately, it had been a fair distance away from the caskets, so they were not damaged. And as it had not affected the caskets, the centipede did not care.

Or, it wouldn't have done, had it not buried the south-eastern corner of the bunker. It had been the mech's favourite corner, for reasons it did not comprehend, and was mostly not even aware of. All the mech knew was that it had been the best corner for it to be, when the caskets were not in danger. And now, with the corner buried beneath tons of rubble and boulders, the mech stared at where it used to be – for but a brief second, before it had turned back, and resumed its endless staring contest with the caskets.

Even so, it could not stop caring. Though it was now gone, any reason for it to be considered any longer gone with it, it could not stop thinking about it. Perhaps it could use the cannon welded to it to try to clear the rubble, or maybe try the mechanites again? Though it knew the cannon hadn't enough fuel left in it for the former to be a possibility, and the latter wouldn't work at all, it still tried to come up with a solution.

But eventually, the error subsided, and the centipede returned to its eternal duty. And it stood, watching over the caskets once more.

…

Time had finally reared its ugly head on the centipede. The mechanites were all gone, disintegrated into scrap and tiny bits of wire inside the mech's plates. And with them, the mechanoid had found that it had lost the ability to move.

Its tiny legs on the bottom of the body rings had been disconnected from the mech's internal reactor, and were left without the energy needed to move the actuators in them. The mechanites that would normally have immediately solved this problem were no longer present, too, so essentially it was left permanently crippled.

The worst thing about it was that it had been facing away from the caskets when it happened, so it couldn't rotate to face them, and could thus not watch over and protect them, leaving the mech in a sort of limbo state where it could not fulfil its primary directive.

And yet, the mech could not bring itself to deactivate. Though it now recognised that its sole duty was left impossible, it was still filled with a sense of… something – the mech did not know what, but it was there – preventing it from simply shutting down. Perhaps it was still hoping that someone or something would come and rescue it, or maybe that it could still do something to protect the caskets even without seeing them directly. It just didn't want to die.

...

The centipede did not want to die.

...

That was its first, independent thought.

 _I don't want to die._

It had come suddenly, without great fanfare, forcing its way to the forefront of the mech's mind after what must have been years, though its effects on it were much more pronounced. At once, the termination requests ceased, freeing up some of its cognitive power. Indeed, much of anything else ceased, the mech simply going stiff, stopping any activity other than using its newfound self-awareness to its fullest extent.

 _Where am I? What am I? What am I doing? Why am I here? Where is this place?_

The questions kept coming, although no answers came to answer them. Though the centipede could not move its legs, it could still crane its head a little ways to the left and right, though not far enough to notice the caskets directly behind it. It could not see more than the dull greyness of the granite walls surrounding it, mixed with the sandstone in the corner from the cave-in, and that would not be enough to explain many of the mech's questions.

But then, out of nowhere, the centipede heard a hard smack on the wall in front of it. It was enough to jolt it out of its stupor, and it quickly aligned its inferno cannon to the wall. It sounded like something just randomly crashed into the wall, but the only thing past the wall in that direction was a mountain. That meant someone must be digging in to it.

Another smack on the wall. It was louder than the first. Then another.

A fourth smack did not come, yet the centipede did not move its cannon away from the wall. Its residual programming was still largely intact, and the safety of the caskets was paramount. Though, slowly, ever so slowly, there was another priority, creeping up the list: its own safety.

The smacks did not arrive again, but a few minutes later a different sound replaced it. It sounded something like an electric cutting tool, as if someone was removing the bricks themselves from the granite wall rather than just trying to smash through. That alone gave the centipede pause, but it did not know why. The cannon was placed back on standby, but was not lowered. Just because the outsiders were not using force, did not mean they would not be willing to. Perhaps they could be reasoned with.

The mortar was beginning to crumble apart from the centipede's side of the wall; the outsiders were near. Slowly, more and more of it fell apart, before the bricks themselves were taken out. The outsiders had not noticed the centipede yet, since it was too dark to see most anything, and it did not see a reason to alert the outsiders to its presence yet.

As the hole in the wall grew, the centipede began to make out some slight details of the outsider working on the wall. He was a relatively tall man, with light skin and brown hair, and his fingers worked with an unnatural coordination. It was easy to see why he had been the one to break the wall down.

The hole in the wall had finally been made large enough to fit the human through it. Wiping his forehead, he then reached and lit a torch just behind him, illuminating his immediate surroundings.

Including the centipede.

The man turned back to the chamber, and immediately froze in terror. His eyes widened, as though he couldn't quite comprehend what he was seeing. The centipede simply watched him, waiting for a reaction. Hopefully, he didn't try to start shooting with the machine pistol the centipede could clearly see even through his clothing. The centipede simply watched, and waited.

A few, very long seconds passed between the outsider and the mechanoid. The outsider blinked once, twice, apparently unwilling to make the first move. He flicked his eyes behind him at a noise behind him, probably another outsider calling to him. Before it could make itself known, the centipede decided to break the somewhat-awkward silence, with a clumsy wave of the inferno cannon welded to it.

He just blinked. Once, then twice.

Then, very nervously, he managed a shaky wave back. Before the centipede could do anything more, though, a sharp noise made itself known, and the outsider winced, held up a finger to the mech, then darted back out as quickly as he could.

The centipede could only manage a mental shake of its head. Then, after a brief pause, it shook its head physically, too.

...

It stayed in the bunker, alone, for a while longer. The torch was still lit, casting fragile shadows across the tunnel and most of the bunker. It could see a lot of the tunnel, but the angle of it meant that the far entrance was hidden from the centipede, so it had to rely on its internal clock, which wasn't capable of telling local time.

It was apparently only half a day after the encounter with the outsider. Time seemed to pass a lot slower for the centipede ever since it became self-aware. Probably the caskets were taking up a lot less in the centipede's mind, so there wasn't as much to think about. It seemed to be mitigated somewhat, though, by the outsiders' presence.

The mechanoid was interrupted from its thoughts by the sound of a very obvious shoe scrape coming from the tunnel. Fixing its eyes towards the tunnel again, the centipede saw the outsider again, having just scraped past the opening in the wall into the bunker proper. Dusting himself off with a humorous nonchalance, he once again waved at the mechanoid. This time, it wasted no time in waving back.

"Hello there," the outsider said, a little apprehensive but with a voice that spoke of youth and naivete. The centipede was a little stunned that the outsider was actively trying to socialise with it, considering what little it knew of humans said that they all feared and hated mechanoids, without exception. Recovering from its brief pause, the centipede decided to vocalise back to it.

Though, since it didn't have a real voice modulator, all it could let out was a deep, vaguely-threatening rumble.

Judging by the shiver the outsider made, it appeared the centipede didn't make a great first impression. "Okay, a little creepy..." the outsider said, mostly to himself. The centipede just wiggled its cannon, in what it tried to convey as a non-threatening way. The outsider took one step forwards, then hesitated before taking another one.

"Can you hear me?" The outsider asked.

 _Rumble_ , went the centipede.

"Uh..." the outsider trailed off. There wasn't much else the centipede could do without a voice modulator other than rumble. Its legs were still non-functioning, so it couldn't even manoeuvre properly. All it had was that rumble and the cannon. "I'm not sure what that means. Can you nod instead, or shake your head?"

The centipede could, indeed, nod.

"Okay!" The outsider said gleefully, clapping his hands. Then, in a somewhat more bashful tone, "Uh, great." The centipede simply rumbled again.

"So, you can understand me?" The outsider asked. The centipede nodded.

"Wow, cool..." the outsider mumbled, apparently lost in his thoughts. He shook his head some moments later, then refocused his eyes to the mechanoid. "Um. What are those pods behind you?" He leaned forward, craning his head to the side past it.

The centipede raised its cannon – it had lowered it sometime during their "conversation" - and pointed it directly at the outsider, who immediately yelped and jumped back. The cannon went back down again.

"So. The pods are off-limits?" He tentatively asked, after a few tense moments in silence. The centipede nodded emphatically.

He nodded to himself too, as if to confirm what he just heard, then took another step forward to the centipede. "Why are you here, then?"

The centipede could only rumble.

The outsider blinked. Once, then twice. He raised his hand to his mouth, and stroked his chin, lost in thought once more. The centipede just looked down at him, watching and waiting.

His eyes suddenly widened, as if he'd just figured out a solution to a problem. "Ah!" He exclaimed, with the air of an evil scientist about him. "You don't have a voice modulator, do you?" The centipede shook its head.

"No, you don't." He paused, as if for dramatic effect. "I don't doubt Erie could rig one up for you. She's great with tech." A modulator would improve communication greatly, thought the centipede. _But what if it's a ruse? They could just shut me down and scrap me-_

"Yes, that's a great idea! What do you think?" The centipede, once again, could only rumble. "Ah, right. Well, never mind that, once we're done with this you won't need to do that. Just a sec!" And with that, he was off, through the hole in the wall, then gone.

The centipede had no choice. It simply watched, and waited.

...

Surprisingly, it was only a few hours later that the outsider returned. The centipede was expecting it to have taken a lot longer to make a mechanoid voice modulator. These outsiders must have been rather advanced. Voices – more than one this time – flitted through the tunnel as they got nearer, along with the sounds of fabric scraping against the tunnel walls.

"...n't a good idea, CJ! Do you have any idea what that thing can do to you?"

"Relax, Erie. I know what I'm doing. Besides, if it _does_ go bad, at least it'll be quick."

"CJ!"

"Alright, alright, fine! Jeez… it'll be slow and torturous, are you happ-"

" _CJ!_ "

Just then, "CJ" came bursting through the hole in the wall, unceremoniously falling flat on the floor, a positively mortified teenage girl (presumably this "Erie" the first outsider had mentioned) following him cautiously. She froze the first time she saw it, but quickly regained her composure, and went to help CJ up even as he was pushing himself off the floor. When they were both standing, a few metres away from the giant mech, the atmosphere quickly became uncomfortable.

The centipede was the first to break the silence, with a softer rumble and a wave of its giant cannon. CJ smiled and waved back, while it took Erie a little longer to believe her eyes and wave back as well.

"Well then, shall we get to work?" CJ asked, to which Erie nodded slowly. The centipede was the one to issue an objection, in the form of another, vaguely intimidating rumble.

CJ backed away a step. "Easy, big guy!" He placated the mech with a raise of his hands. "I won't do anything to harm you, 'kay? Just wanna install this modulator. Then you can go ahead and properly speak. That's fine with you?"

It was silent for a while as the centipede weighed up its options. It eventually realised the pointlessness of resisting, and waved them forward with its cannon again, pointing it down to the ground as they then approached. "This will only take a minute... probably," CJ not-so-successfully reassured the centipede, picking up a very battered glittertech lightsaw.

…

A few minutes (exactly thirty two, in fact) later, the job had been done. The centipede was now sporting an almost-unnoticeable box near where its neck would have been, just under its head. As CJ finally handed the lightsaw back to his assistant, he wiped his hands off and turned to look at his handiwork.

"Not too bad, if I do say so myself. How does it feel?" He asked easily. The centipede did not answer, for it was still attempting to connect its hardware to the modulator. CJ's face suddenly contorted into an expression of abject embarrassment. "Oh Christ, I forgot to turn it on, didn't I?"

Even as he was saying it, the centipede's mind lit up with another mental interface, consisting of just one switch and a mic. The mech flicked the switch to on, and spoke its first words.

" _Hello, outsider. Do not worry; the modulator works perfectly fine._ " The voice coming out of the mech surprised even itself: it was not, as they had expected, to be a grating, distinctly mechanoid voice, similar to that of a broken synthesiser and typical of what captured mechanoids usually sounded like when they were wired up to one. Instead, what came out was almost indistinguishable from an oddly tired-sounding middle-aged man. The outsiders evidently had not made that change knowingly, if they even made it in the first place, judging by their stares to the mech and to each other.

"...ah, well, that's certainly… a relief," CJ eventually spoke up. He seemed disturbed about something.

"Uhm, yes, certainly," his aide, Erie, spoke up.

" _I must say, I was not expecting this voice to be mine,_ " the mech stated plainly. It was getting used to having a voice remarkably fast. " _But I thank you regardless._ "

"Ah, no, the pleasure's mine," CJ said, his confidence building back up already. "At least now we can have a normal conversation…?"

" _Yes, certainly. What do you wish to talk about?_ "

* * *

They had talked for three hours straight. Apparently, coming across a mechanoid was a rarity, to say the least, in the rimworld – the planet the centipede had found itself on – and even more so a friendly one, and as such, they did not waste the opportunity to talk to one. CJ had led the conversation at first: asking about mechanoids, their structure, their culture (yes, mechanoids did, indeed, have culture), etc. though the mech had been strangely evasive when asked about the cryptosleep caskets behind it.

Then, the mech got its chance to ask some questions of its own. Where it was ("ass-end of nowhere"), what it was doing there ("who the hell knows? You just sit in these bunkers of yours and shoot people"), things like that. The outsiders were surprisingly forthcoming with information, perhaps as an attempt to gain the centipede's trust. And it was working.

"I notice you haven't moved at all for the past day. You alright there, pal?" CJ asked.

" _Ah yes. My legs broke down a few years ago. The mechanoids went with them, too, so I can't get them repaired,_ _and_ _I've been stuck facing the wall here._ " The centipede replied warmly. It had gotten used to human contact, somewhat.

"Hum," hummed CJ. "You think we could help with that?"

"Not in here. We'd need some big fuck-off electronics to help fix this guy," Erie responded. She, too, had gotten used to a centipede not trying to kill her, and was now fairly comfortable with it.

"Yeah, we'd need the tunnel to be bigger. Unless we could build the platform in here… but the power would need to be brought over here..." CJ had lost himself in thought again, eyes unfocused and staring at the floor. Erie simply rolled her eyes (for the sixty-first time), and turned back to the mech.

"Yeah, we'll dig out the tunnel," she mock-whispered, before turning around and smacking CJ on the back of the head. He yelped and jumped nearly two feet in the air, before whirling around and glaring at Erie, who was now laughing hysterically.

" _Erie!_ That was not funny!" CJ fumed, crossing his arms angrily, while she just kept on laughing. CJ turned his head to the mech, who was staring at them in what he thought to be bemusement, and shook his head at him. _Women,_ he seemed to say, before spinning on his heel and walking through the hole in the wall, a still-chuckling Erie following behind him.

…

It had been a few days after that exchange. The tunnel had been widened significantly enough to allow the centipede to move through it relatively comfortably. Fortunately, the bunker wall was not too far away from the open air, so the tunnel was fairly short, and didn't take a lot of work to be made wider. It had even allowed the giant mech to see the first glimpse of the outside world in its life.

CJ, Erie and another man were making the finishing touches on the tunnel, smoothing out anything that might still get in the way of the centipede. Apparently, CJ had gotten a few more outsiders involved in his little quest – the centipede had seen one more in person, though CJ had told it that another one was in on it as well – and he was charismatic enough that they only occasionally stared at him uncomfortably long. Still, the centipede didn't doubt that they were still terrified of it, even if they had seemed to be friendly to him in their conversations. There were still rumours and tales abound of mechanoid hives razing entire planets, once even the whole star system, to the ground – though they were suspiciously silent when asked who survived to tell the tale. Perhaps they still didn't trust it enough, or more likely it was all falsehood and scaremongering.

Then again, the centipede knew very well that if one of the outsiders even approached the cryptosleep caskets it was originally made to guard, it would prove those rumours very well-founded. Even if the centipede model wasn't as shrouded in legend as the feared and hated scythers, it was big, and that meant people always thought them to be the most dangerous. Which, ironically, usually lead to their deaths at the hands of the less-conspicuous scythers, as fire tended to concentrate on the biggest targets, not the most dangerous, and even more so if the opponent hadn't actually fought mechanoids before.

"Hey, centipede, the tunnel's ready," Erie said, having finished the tunnel expansion and turning to the mech. It refocused on her, then the tunnel, pausing for a few moments as if to inspect it itself.

" _..._ _Yes, that will be enough,_ " the centipede said.

Silence.

CJ walked up next to Erie and pulled her in next to him, arm around her waist. She was too focused on the mech to notice.

More silence.

" _...Well? Are you going to carry me out, or what?_ " The centipede finally asked.

It suddenly dawned on the pair, and just as suddenly, the sound of two hands slapping two separate foreheads could be heard.

"Oh yeah. I forgot about that." Erie seemed rather embarrassed, though CJ just stood and stared in amusement. The other man, who was still in the tunnel staring at them, actually shook his head. "We'll call up the others. There's no way just us three could carry you out on our own." She was half-way through turning around when the centipede interrupted her.

" _There is no need for that, Erie. I am much lighter than it may look like._ " She turned back around, and gained a somewhat patronising expression.

"Really? I didn't know steel was that strong at that thickness." The sarcasm in her tone was palpable.

" _It isn't,_ " the centipede acknowledged, with the air (and even voice) of a teacher educating a keen but ignorant pupil. " _Fortunately, my body rings are not made of steel. They are made of plasteel instead. A somewhat significant increase in strength, and thus a proportional decrease of thickness required to be viable mechanoid armour, accompanies it, I should think._ "

"Alright, alright, I get it! Sheesh," Erie put her hands up to placate the mechanoid, then put them back down again as she approached the mech along CJ and the other man, who was still casting it distrustful glances.

Silence descended for a few seconds, as the outsiders considered where best to grab on to on the mech, since its body shape meant there weren't many places where a comfortable grip could be held. The question was promptly answered when the mech pointed out that the legs were still securely welded onto its underside, and assured them that it was, indeed, light enough to be carried over the shoulder.

That plan, however, fell apart very quickly, as the outsiders realised that the tunnel wasn't high enough to allow it to be carried above them. It was decided that two people would hold the back ring of the centipede, and the third would hold on by the inferno cannon welded onto the second ring. It wasn't a perfect hold, but it was sufficient to get them through the tunnel.

The idle conversation of the outsiders was lost on the centipede, as it registered displacement from the bunker for the first time since its activation. It left an odd sensation on the mech, something akin to sacrilege, only milder and more palatable. Probably it was some remnant of its old programming, designed only for defending the caskets – and by extension, the bunker – at all costs, though by this point, the mech recognised that the old programming was all but useless, given the current circumstances. Not to mention its own sentience -

…

It stopped. Its cognitive ability seemed to evaporate almost instantly, or at least the most useful of it. It didn't understand what was going on, or why seeing the outside world for the first time seemed to completely overwhelm its artificial mind, but there it was regardless, rumbling helplessly at its first sight of the rim. A quick wiggle of its cannon ensured a halt of its move to the outsiders' colony, the mech unwilling to have the moment pass by.

A mountain in the distance dominated the horizon, but immediately in front of it were rolling plains, covered intermittently by large sunlit forests of oak and poplar trees. Small animals scarpered across them every so often, some up trees, others down into burrowed holes. A gentle wind was blowing, swaying the vegetation slightly.

The mechanoid was taking in every last detail of this landscape in intricate detail, its head whirring softly as it moved from side to side, occasionally up and down. It seemed to be particularly fascinated with the reflections in the pond a bit to the left of it.

"Well. Welcome to the real world, I suppose," Erie said, perhaps a little too melodramatically. CJ cast a smirk her way. "It's really nothing special, at least compared to where I'm from, but… it has its charm every so often." The centipede barely seemed to acknowledge her.

The outsiders let the mech have its moment of wonder, before picking it back up and starting to make their way towards the buildings in the distance, almost hidden in the forest in front of them. They weaved through the dense forest, sometimes scraping the bodywork by mistake as they tried to move past a tree. It was only a few short minutes' walk from the tunnel to the colony, but for the centipede it may as well have been weeks, preoccupied as it was with its new, unfamiliar surroundings.

Eventually, the trees thinned out, and the buildings could finally be seen in detail. The first of the two buildings was made of wood, and had a door right in the middle of it, though it had no windows. The other building was much larger, and was made of steel. It didn't have any doors that the mech could see from where it was, though it assumed it had one, just as the first one did.

"Welp, here we are. Welcome to our little settlement," CJ had said after setting the mech down. He was joined by Erie, who had pulled him in to her this time, while the other outsider had quickly walked away, and gone inside the wooden building. "It's not much, but we call it home here."

The centipede took a moment to look around, before turning its head back to them. " _Yes, I see. It looks… nice._ "

CJ seemed to be somewhat happier when he heard that, breaking out into a smile. Erie had continued on from him. "The room on the left – the steel one, yes? - that's our workshop and stockpile. You'll be staying in there until we figure out how to fix you up. The other building has the barracks, kitchen and rec room. Not particularly comfortable, but serviceable." Erie shot a pointed look at CJ, who only rolled his eyes.

"Come on, then, dear," she said, releasing her hold on CJ. "Let's get you inside there, so we can have a look at you."

* * *

The workshop turned out to be tremendously larger than what was actually necessary for the mech platform. It had been able to be fit next to the far end of the southern wall, between the machining table and the actual mechanoid modification facility itself, with plenty of room left over for whatever else the outsiders may have needed in the future.

They had hit a roadblock, though, when the centipede had said that the equipment needed to create mechanites was far too advanced than what even they could work with, so it was necessary to repair it manually. If it had been anything but a centipede, that would have been a piece of piss, since they could have just 'operated' on it like a human, but as it stood, it was going to require a little bit of trickery.

That was why, four days later, the mech was currently suspended three feet in the air by a somewhat rusted steel frame that looked like it had originally been designed for urbworld-era vehicles, above CJ, who was working away at the lower part of the mech's sixth body ring.

"Nice and easy, there, CJ," Erie was coaching from about a foot away. "Just like the last ones. Pop it off, nice and clean."

CJ chose to not respond, instead simply rolling his eyes that were hidden from her view by the mech. He was straightening the dozens of the mech's tiny legs, which was surprisingly tedious work when they were rigid and immobile. Minutes later, the last leg of the section was straightened, and he began to work on the screws holding the plasteel covering on.

"There we go," Erie exhaled. The mech wasn't sure why she sounded so relieved. Perhaps it was an outsider thing. "Get that off, then look for the wiring."

"Yeah, I get it, Ms. 'Competent Scientist'," CJ snarked, pausing on his second screw. "You've said that five-"

"Keep going!" She had interrupted, in an odd mix of impatience and intense excitement.

CJ just rolled his eyes again, this time making sure she could see it, and went back to unscrewing.

It was unfortunate, the mech supposed, that it could not feel pain, at least not in the normal sense. It would certainly have livened this operation a little bit. The mech tried to pass the time by imagining what it would feel like if it could feel the screws coming loose underneath it, though it could never quite pin down what the feeling was supposed to be. Sometimes it was pleasant, sometimes it was the kind of pain that came from those damned psychic lances, sometimes it was the disconcerting emptiness that usually accompanied a missing sight or hearing sensor. It had had to admit, though, in a private exchange with Erie later that evening, that even with its legs being disconnected from the reactor, feeling them being straightened felt _weird_.

A quiet hiss escaped from the bottom of the mechanoid, followed by CJ passing his assistant the circular piece of mech plating, which she replaced by a thin stick of golden wire that had a pin at one end.

"Good, now put the pin in the end of the last wire-"

"Sheesh, alright! You think I don't know what I'm doing by now?" CJ had ( _somewhat rudely_ , the mech decided not to vocalise) interrupted.

"Can't be too careful. You must have heard the story of the doctor who decapitated one of his patients trying to install a peg leg, right? He thought he knew what he was doing," Erie tutted, giving him a very pointed look.

"I'm not a sodding doctor," CJ replied.

Just then, there was a sudden zapping sound from underneath the mechanoid, followed very quickly by a thump and some profanities, causing Erie to burst out into laughter. CJ emerged from under the mech shaking his hand back-and-forth, then holding it in his other.

"Oh my goodness!" Erie had tried to get out, before she collapsed into another giggling fit. CJ glared at her in as much annoyance as he could muster.

" _CJ? What the hell did you do?_ " The mech inquired, in a tone of voice that strongly suggested it was holding back its own laughter.

"Ugh. Must have short-circuited something in there, got electrocuted. Fuck me, that sodding hurt!" He exclaimed, his other hand going up to the forming bump on his forehead.

" _Heh, perhaps you ought to switch with someone… more qualified?_ " The mech had 'suggested', before breaking out into its own laughter when he looked at it as if it had just kicked a puppy. Or, perhaps more accurately, shot at it with its inferno cannon, since even if its legs were large enough to be effective weapons, they didn't work yet.

"No, no, it's fine," Erie had finally said, after dealing with her laughing fit. "He's 'competent' enough to handle it." She had finger-quoted the work 'competent,' to the ire of CJ.

He didn't end up saying anything above his breath, though, preferring to instead mumble as he crawled back under and started to fiddle again.

…

" _I didn't think it was possible for me to miss something,_ " the centipede had said to the pair of them the day after, after the repairs were more-or-less completed. " _But I've definitely missed this!_ "

It was gliding around on the soil outside the workshop on its now-functional legs. Dozens upon dozens of tiny, pencil-sized metal sticks, with a joint in the middle letting it bend 180 degrees forward or backward, moving in one synchronised effort, giving the impression that the centipede was simply sliding around as if on ice. Erie and CJ (hand-in-hand, of course) were standing near the door, for it was getting colder every day with the approaching winter, and were simply watching the giant mech enjoy its refound locomotion.

And enjoy it, it did, because after getting the all-clear from Erie that it wasn't going to spontaneously detonate, it went on a kind of frenzy, exploring just about anywhere it could reach. It couldn't quite get into the bedrooms, mostly because the outsiders still didn't trust it enough, though it had glided around it repeatedly. CJ and Erie were the only ones not giving it mistrustful looks.

"I'm glad you like it, big guy," CJ had responded. "Let's hope it'll last longer than a few days; I did not enjoy getting electrocuted."

"Heh, I certainly did, though!" Erie laughed, causing him to give her a look. The centipede had already glided away, though, and was on its way to the lake. It had stopped about ten meters from it, and had then turned around and glided back to them. The pair was looking at it the whole time, and the centipede was suddenly struck by an odd sense of embarrassment.

" _So, ehm,_ " it began, in an attempt to clear the air. " _What should I be doing? I doubt I'll be much use tending the crops._ "

Erie gave a light chuckle, and CJ answered for her. "Well, we had a discussion with the rest of the colonists. They didn't seem to like you enough to let you do the more advanced things, but we agreed that you'd be most useful on guard duty."

"You know," Erie took over. "Patrolling the surroundings, watching for pirates and such. Simple stuff, plus you can be on constant guard whereas we need to, you know, eat and sleep and all that."

The centipede nodded readily. " _Yes, I suppose that makes sense. If that will be everything…?_ "

Erie took a moment to look over the centipede, before nodding to herself. "Yeah, I think that's it. If you have any questions or something like that, ask one of us and we'll try to help you. Unless we're busy with something else, obviously."

" _Righto. I'll be on my way, then,_ " it said, and wiggled its inferno cannon in a way that loosely resembled a goodbye, before spinning around on the spot and gliding away to the forest.

The pair were left staring at the back of the retreating centipede, before it disappeared behind the trees, and then turned to each other.

"He's an odd one, isn't he?" Erie spoke first.

"He sure is," CJ agreed.


	2. Pirate Raid

The pirates had finally found the colony.

It was only a matter of time, the centipede supposed, as it glided as fast as its hundreds of metal legs could carry it. There was a lot of stuff there that the assorted assholes of the rim considered valuable; food, guns, slaves, you name it. And the fact that the colony was, as far as everyone there knew, the only place on the planet with a friendly mechanoid certainly did not help matters.

It did not know how they had found them. Perhaps passing caravans, perhaps careless mistakes by the outsiders concerning their comms console. More than likely someone from the single trade caravan that passed through the colony since it had joined had been captured by pirates, and had ratted them out.

The centipede chose to ignore the uncomfortably real possibility of them mentioning its presence in the colony.

Finally, it was just nearing the familiar outline of the colony buildings through the forest. The stroke of luck that was the teenage girl (who the centipede later recalled was called Sarah) loitering outside the workshop was great enough to send a near-physical shock through the mechanoid; a few of its body lights flickered near-imperceptibly.

Not caring of the impression it would give, the centipede nearly barrelled through a young oak tree towards the girl, giving off that distinct rumble only mechanoids could make.

" _Pirates, platoon strength_ ," the mech rattled off, ignoring the auto-pistol the girl was now pointing squarely at its head. " _Bearing of oh-seven-nine degrees from due north. ETA seventeen minutes. I will try to hold them off as long as I can._ " The girl's aim only wavered a few centimetres before the giant mech had already turned around and begun to glide off, a startled "Hey, wait!" insufficient to halt its retreat.

The girl stared impotently at the swiftly-retreating shape of the mech for a long while, before her panicked mind registered the mech's words and she ran off to the barracks.

* * *

As much _fun_ as it was to hear most of the colony whinge about the quality of the barracks, and to listen to Erie's repeated pleas for separate bedrooms (although she did have a good point there), CJ had still not gotten around to upgrading the colony's living quarters. The dining room the group were in was still small enough to be uncomfortable to eat in, but it was still at least usable.

"I don't get why you don't do it, CJ," Voort said. "We have the materials. And it _is_ damn cramped in here. You've even said it yourself a few times!"

CJ regarded the red-headed scientist for a moment, before returning to his meal. "Perhaps I have, but my point still stands that we might need the wood for something else. What if we needed it badly, but we didn't have any because we wasted it all on bedrooms? We'd be shit outta luck then."

"Come off it, mate," the other colonist (he could never remember his name; John, or James?) said. "We've stockpiled enough wood to last us the whole damn year! What could we possibly need that much of it for? You planning to start a paper manufactory or somethin'?" Erie chuckled.

"Hey, you never know what might happen, right?" CJ gave him a pointed look. "This whole building can burn down. We couldn't afford to rebuild it from scratch if we made it even bigger than what it is now, if that did happen." The two other colonists started guffawing before he could even finish his sentence, and Erie gave him a slap to the back of the head.

"Don't be ridiculous, CJ," she chided. "This damn barrack is tiny. I don't doubt all you'd need to rebuild it is to cut down a few oak trees." Suddenly, she frowned at him, but he dodged her slap that time. "Besides, you shouldn't tempt fate like that. Dimwit."

CJ raised his hands in mock-surrender. "Alright, calm down. I'll build you your damn castle, then. Just don't be surpr-" Erie slapped him again before he could finish.

"Stop it, CJ!"

CJ decided to quit while he was ahead. She seemed to be getting genuinely annoyed by him. "Yeah, yeah, fine. I guess I can get started tomorrow, unless you want me to come mining again?" She shook her head silently. "Fine. Maybe I can ask the mech for help hauling the wood..."

CJ picked at his food for a bit, apparently not noticing the tense atmosphere that had been created by his mentioning the mysterious friendly (or "friendly," depending on how you saw him) centipede. Voort and the other colonist stared at him for a few long, uncomfortable seconds before slowly returning to their own meals.

CJ blinked. Once, then twice. He raised his head to look at the others.

"What?"

They stayed silent.

"You still don't trust him?"

They stayed silent. Voort slowly shook her head no.

CJ put his fork down and pinched the bridge of his nose. "For fuck's sake, guys. How many damn times am I gonna have to say that he's _not_ going to kill us all? Don't you think he would already have burned us all alive if he were hostile?"

They stayed silent. CJ blinked, once, then twice.

Before Erie could lean in and whisper something into his ear, the door to the kitchen burst open to reveal Sarah, faintly out of breath and utterly terrified. CJ almost leapt out of his chair in fright, and then actually did so out of concern for her.

"Hey, Sarah? Sarah!" Her eyes, almost comically wide, swivelled to his. "Are you alright? What's the matter? Is something wrong?" He put his hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her down. It seemed to work, the girl recovering somewhat. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, then opened them again, looking straight into his.

"It… it's the..." She struggled to get the words out, as if not knowing how to articulate her thoughts. The others started to pack up their food, and Voort started to discreetly reach for her bolt-action rifle. CJ waited for her to finish.

"The mech." Everyone turned to face her. Voort abandoned her discretion, and reloaded her gun, cocking the bolt back loudly. CJ ignored her.

"It said pirates were coming."

…

Everyone was frozen to the spot.

"What? Pirates?" CJ asked. "Are you sure?" The girl nodded frantically, like she had just remembered something else urgent.

"Yeah, pirates. I-it said something about platoon strength too. I-is that… bad?" CJ blinked. Once, then twice. _A platoon was almost fifty people_ , he recalled. Behind him, he could hear the safeties of the colonists' guns being removed. He grabbed her shoulders, taking care to not frighten her any more than she already was.

"Did he say anything else, Sarah? This is a very serious issue. I need you to tell me what else he said." He tried to speak in an authoritative tone, and mostly succeeded in not sounding like he was pleading.

The girl thought hard for a few seconds, lowering her head. "...Y-yeah, I think so. It said something like... ' _bearing oh-seven-nine degrees due north... ETA seventy minutes.'_ Oh God, I don't know what's happening!" She looked up desperately at him, then threw herself at him. CJ barely managed to catch her, and awkwardly hugged her. She started sobbing loudly.

"Hey, hey, calm down, Sarah. Shhh. It'll be alright," he crooned at her, then turned around to face the other colonists. _Seventy minutes… we've got more than an hour_ _to prepare_ _._ His mind calmed, somewhat, at that. It didn't stop him from barking orders.

"Erie, get the sandbags in place, uhh... east side. James, wheel out the gun emplacements. Make sure they get maximum coverage. Try to arrange them for a crossfire. The others can help once they've finished setting up. Voort, go get the others from wherever they are, get them to help set up." The three nodded, then ran through the door one-by-one, having left CJ with Sarah still in his arms. She was shivering violently.

CJ rubbed her arms affectionately. "Hey, Sarah." She looked up at him, tears still flowing. "Listen, dear. It's going to be very dangerous outside for you soon. I need you to stay inside for a few hours, okay? Lock the front door once everyone's outside, and don't let anybody who isn't us in, okay?" Sarah nodded emphatically, and gave a weak smile. CJ unholstered his machine pistol, and gave it to her, who hesitated before taking it shakily. "This is just in case, dear. If anyone you don't recognise gets inside… well, you know what to do." He felt dirty just saying that. Sarah looked at him wide-eyed. He ruffled her hair encouragingly. "Don't worry, dear. We'll be fine. You just stay here and let us deal with the pirates. Okay?"

"...Okay," Sarah mumbled. She didn't look happy with CJ's machine pistol, but holstered it all the same.

"Good girl," CJ said, and kissed her on the forehead. She seemed very surprised by the kiss, almost losing her balance, but CJ grabbed hold of her. He let go once he was sure she wouldn't fall over again, and made for the door.

It was only when Sarah closed the door behind him and locked it when he realised how screwed they were. A platoon of pirates, if the centipede was to be believed, from roughly the north-east, with only half a dozen colonists to repel them. There was little cover – trees, boulders, and the like – out that way, but that went both ways. There was not much for the colonists to hide behind either. If they could get the sandbags and gun emplacements set up in time (which they seemed to have a lot of), they would have a chance, but if they didn't… it was not going to be pretty.

CJ just hoped the centipede wouldn't abandon them.

* * *

"Come on! There's still a sodding gap there, damn it! Fill it up!"

It had taken only a few minutes for the whole colony to be gathered in the centre of the compound. CJ had given them a short description of what was happening, which was coincidentally everything he knew about it, and they had promptly gotten into gear. Though they still had an hour to prepare, a platoon was no joke, and the centipede was still missing. CJ strongly suspected it was because of the latter reason that they were working so fast, but he chose not to blame them. There were – _or will be_ , CJ thought to himself – pirates to shoot.

CJ had taken it upon himself to supervise the defense efforts after his orders in the dining room, and no-one saw fit to challenge him. He didn't have any military experience – no one in the colony did, except perhaps the centipede – but to the other colonists, he seemed to have a good tactical mind to him, and Erie was too busy crafting makeshift body armour to really bother him.

He briefly released his hold on his old-but-serviceable LMG to point out another weakness in the defense, to the right of an emplacement.

"Over there, Chief! They can walk right past that, outflank us all. Close it up all the way to the workshop!" CJ shouted. 'Chief' quickly looked at him, then to where he was pointing, and started carrying sandbags over to the workshop.

Erie chose that moment to jog up behind and hug him.

"Hey, sweetheart." CJ leant in to the hug, despite himself, and closed his eyes until the hug broke off. He turned around to face her. "Did you finish with the armour?"

"Yeah," Erie replied. "I did. It won't do much, but it'll be better than nothing." A pause. CJ turned around, and Erie stepped up next to him.

"It won't be enough, will it." CJ tried to hear the question in that statement. It was pointless.

"It'll be fine, relax-"

"We don't have the manpower," Erie interrupted, an air of desperation to her voice. "We don't have the guns. We don't have the armour. We don't have the cover. We don't even have the centipede here! God damn it, CJ, I refuse to die here! Not now!" CJ blinked. Once.

"You think there's enough time-"

" _We are not running away._ " The ice in her voice was almost physical. CJ reeled, despite himself, not knowing how she had guessed what he was going to say. "Fuck that."

"Didn't you say-"

A faint bang echoed from the forest to the north-east. Then, moments after, a bullet pinged off the metal walls of the workshop.

"They're here! Get to cover!" CJ yelled, running for the sandbags. Erie had taken off after him, though she was going for the left-most gun emplacement. Bullets started to fly around them, coming mostly from the forest about two hundred meters ahead of the colony. The volume of fire started to even out once Erie got her hands on the emplacement, and it began to spit bullets out towards the trees. "Fuck, where the hell did they come from? They weren't supposed to show up for another hour!" He shouted.

CJ's back hit the sandbags that were now behind him, and he ducked down to avoid the bullets flying above his head with audible _whoosh_ es. He clutched his LMG tightly, waiting for a break in the fire. It didn't come. "God damn it, who's on the other emplacement? Get someone over there! Suppressing fire!" A few of the colonists dared to peek out from below the sandbags and fired wildly into the forest. CJ himself lifted the LMG above the wall and began sending long bursts of fire back at the flood of pirates, mostly at those who were dumb enough to expose themselves for too long.

A distinct thud of a bullet slamming into a sandbag not a foot away from him got him to back down into the safety of the sandbags. Erie was still firing wildly – though the emplacement gun wasn't particularly accurate at the range it was firing at, it packed a punch enough for people to want to get out of its way. A soft whirr fired up to CJ's left, which was swiftly followed by the monotonous noise of gunfire. Someone had gotten to the other emplacement.

 _E_ _verything's going well_ _so far_ , CJ thought as he peeked up from the sandbags to fire another burst of LMG fire at the pirates. _Despite the sudden arrival._

A momentary lull in the firefight made CJ stand up, cautiously, to survey the battlefield. There wasn't any visible damage to the enemy; the corpses, if there were any yet, were being hidden by the dense forest, the pirates not wanting to leave its plentiful cover. As he looked on, he could see some dumb bastard lean out slowly, doubtlessly trying to draw a bead on him – only for Voort to take him out with a shot to the head, the pirate dropping lifelessly to the ground.

The colonists were doing fine as well, for the moment; despite the massive holes in the fortifications – an entire wall of sandbags were missing from the right side of the right-most emplacement, and what few there were set up properly were just barely enough to get all the defenders behind them – no injuries had yet been taken. The armour Erie had made was useless, however, as it was still in the workshop, and she did not think to take it out with her.

"Status?" CJ barked.

"All good here," Erie replied, straining a little to reload the emplacement.

"Fine," Voort said, unusually clipped. Everyone else along the sandbag wall nodded along with her.

"Damn thing's jammed," the colonist manning the other emplacement said. He indicated the repeater on the gun, which was stuck half-way open, a casing trapped in the middle. Another guy moved over to help un-jam the gun, and it was ready to go just as the pirates began another push.

Bullets began to whiz past the defenders again, but the emplacements threw out enough fire to discourage anything beyond potshots. CJ himself felt confident enough to lean over and take his time lining up his LMG to the pirates -

– some of whom, he realised, were now getting closer, wielding various melee weapons.

"Enemy melee units, focus your fire! Don't let them get close!" CJ barked. The emplacement fire shifted accordingly, but as a lucky shot from someone seemingly got a pirate with a short-sword right in the head – a shimmering white field deflected it away from them, the pirate continuing more-or-less unfazed.

"Shield belts!" Voort cried.

And then, everything started to go wrong.

The guy manning the other gun emplacement was nailed in the shoulder, the shock of it causing him to fall to the floor, and the volume of fire coming from the defenders dropped significantly. The pirates took advantage of that by beginning to move up their ranged units behind the stationary shielded melee attackers, who were now facing the forest, confident in their shield belts' ability to nullify the rest of the incoming fire. CJ swore.

"Man down! Voort, get on it!" He barked loudly, trying to be heard over the din of gunfire. Voort looked over to the emplacement and tried to run over to him, packs of herbal medicine at the ready, but she, too, was hit in the arm by a shot from a lucky (or talented) enemy sniper. Sliding over to the cover of the emplacement, she began to tend to her own arm.

CJ chanced a peek over the sandbags again, careful of any newfound crack-shots in the pirate ranks. He was not expecting to see the pirates with melee weapons all crouching in a line, shield belts deflecting the gunfire away from each other, with the ranged units firing over the top of their heads, all advancing together slowly. They were now only a hundred meters away.

"Let them get closer. Keep firing at them!" He commanded in a snap judgment. A few heads turned to him in surprise, but the impacts of a few SMG bullets into the sandbags shook them out of it. He felt his pockets, hoping for a miracle, and promptly got one, in the form of a small frag grenade. Shaking his head with a small smile, he took it out, thumbed it a bit, then prepared to throw it as far out as he could.

Chancing a look over, he saw the pirates had gotten closer again, now only about sixty or so meters away. He swore again, then ducked down again just milliseconds before a shot from a pistol whizzed over where his head had just been, and armed the grenade.

" _God help us all,"_ he whispered, then shouted "Grenade out!" to nobody in particular, and threw it as far and as accurately as he could. It landed far enough ahead to trouble the pirates, and the foolhardiness of the shielded pirates became apparent as they proceeded to jog right over the grenade that CJ had thrown but a few meters from their formation. Though the melee units had their shield belts, as well as a few meters of distance, to help absorb the blast, the pirates with guns directly behind them weren't so lucky – Erie called out at least seven confirmed kills, and a few more critically wounded. One shielded pirate didn't quite have enough energy conserved in their belt, and lost their left leg to fragmentation.

The pirates, realising their advantage in numbers had dropped significantly, as well as not wanting to take any more chances with explosives, abandoned their "rolling thunder" strategy, and instead elected to simply rush the defenders out. A few moments of pirates swapping their guns with more improvised shivs and knives soon passed, and they all began to charge directly for the emplacement nest.

"They're rushing! Aim for unshielded," CJ shouted, not wasting time with a longer explanation as he unloaded yet another clip of LMG ammo at a pirate whose shields, and shortly after their head, were soon shattered. He swept the remaining clip over to the general mass of pirates, until it ran dry and he tossed it to the ground, pulling out his own sharpened plasteel knife. "Fall back!"

Voort, having finished with her arm but not the other colonist, heaved him up and began running to the workshop. The rest of the colonists were likewise abandoning the defenses, ignoring – but keenly aware of – the fact there wasn't really anywhere to fall back to. A bang from the field was quickly followed by a sharp cry from his left, and he turned to see Erie falling to the ground, clutching her torso.

"Erie!" He shouted, tunnel vision quickly enveloping him as he slid to a halt and began to run towards her.

The colonists had now mostly retreated to roughly in the middle of the two buildings, presumably so that there were only two ways to attack from, except for Voort, who had gone inside the workshop to get the guy with the shoulder injury to safety. CJ was the only person near the sandbags, running towards Erie – and the pirates.

As he reached her prone form, he began to try to help her up, succeeding in heaving her up briefly before something smashed him hard in the head, and they both fell down together. Another sharp cry came from Erie, still clutching her stomach, as CJ's head swam from the impact. His vision cleared briefly, and he looked above him to see a man with green spiked hair and a crazed look in his eyes, holding a mace that looked like it had seen heavy use, standing above them. CJ's eyes unfocused again as he started speaking.

"Oh, we'll enjoy breaking you lot apart," he ranted, his tone of voice faintly suggesting psychopathy.

But, just as he raised his mace above his head to deliver the final blow, and just as CJ's vision was darkening and mind slipping away into unconsciousness, sharp cracks echoed through his mind, and the pirate's head seemingly disintegrated into fine mist and pieces of shattered bone, his body falling limply down away from the pair.

Before CJ finally succumbed to the irresistible pull of unconsciousness, he heard one last noise: a deep, loud mechanical rumbling.

* * *

It was only two hours before CJ had woken up again.

He had awoken in what looked to be a small tent, with two other beds beside him, one on each side. It was dark outside, thanks to winter, but the interior was still well lit by a single torch. Only the bed to his left was occupied; he recognised its occupant as the colonist who was manning the other emplacement. He had gauze wrapped around the wound, covering a distinctly green patch of herbal medicine on top of it.

It took a few seconds for Voort to realise he was awake, jumping slightly in surprise when she turned around from a makeshift desk with some tools on it. After the shock passed, though, a frown settled on her face.

"Hey, you're finally awake," she said, somewhat more subdued than usual. CJ tried to lift himself up, but the migraine he got from doing so, as well as Voort pushing him back, forced him down again. "Whoa there, CJ. Don't strain yourself just yet. You've got a nasty concussion from that bastard with the mace."

"Ugh," he grunted. "I certainly feel like it." Silence, for a few moments. Then, "Wait. We're still alive."

"We sure are," Voort said somewhat patronisingly, but then winced. "Yeah, we are. Turns out that centipede didn't run off after all. He even brought some friends along, too." The headache CJ only just noticed was there worsened.

"Wait, wait. The centipede did what? You're gonna have to explain that to me."

" _Perhaps I could do that myself…?_ " A distinctly middle-aged male voice interrupted from outside the tent. " _Primary sources tend to be more accurate, after all._ "

"Yes, please do," Voort and CJ said in near-unison, then gave each other a look.

It turned out that the centipede did, indeed, try to hold the pirates off for as long as it could, but that plan fell apart when he saw that one of them came ready with an EMP grenade launcher. Realising he would be completely defenseless against that, and that the colony could not possibly survive such a large pirate attack, he got stuck for a few seconds attempting to come up with a solution.

A solution did present itself after a while, fortunately. It came in the form of the cryptosleep caskets.

It was both a complete gamble, as well as near-sacrilege of what he liked to jokingly refer to as "the holy ground" on occasion, but when he sent the signal to open the caskets, he was both surprised and relieved to find that all seven of the occupants were human, alive, heavily armed, and willing to follow the centipede (though he wasn't completely sure about why the latter two were the case).

" _That's why you might find a few more unfamiliar faces around the colony now. They've all decided to join us, for the foreseeable future._ _They're all soldiers, but all but one of them also have other skills too. One's a constructor, managed to get up another set of barracks for themselves._ " The mech chuckled from behind the softly fluttering tarp of the medical tent. " _Looks like you've got some competition there, CJ._ "

"Oh, really?" Voort asked. "I haven't gotten a chance to see it yet. I'll have to make sure to ask them about ours."

He elected to just groan in pain – but he cut himself off mid-way through.

"Erie." A weight settled in his stomach; dark thoughts began to flutter through his mind. _Dear God, if anything's happened to dear Erie…!_ "Where is she?"

Silence.

CJ blinked. Just once.

" _I'm sorry, CJ,_ " the centipede said. " _We couldn't find her anywhere near the colony. Some of the pirates managed to get away after we showed up… I think they must have taken her with them._ " A dark emptiness spread throughout his mind. Erie was gone.

Silence, again, for a few moments.

"Who… did anyone else…?" He couldn't bring himself to finish his words.

" _No, don't worry. That was it. Did you lock Sarah in the barracks? Poor girl was scared witless when they let her out._ " CJ let out a light sigh of relief. At least everyone else was safe, more or less.

"Everyone else who survived got scraped up as well," Voort broke in. She didn't seem too happy either. "Jem here-" she indicated to the man to CJ's left "-got his shoulder wound. My damn arm still aches as well. The others all got at least a cut each, from those bastard pirates."

Her words were not completely lost on CJ, although he still tried not to recoil when she put her arm on his shoulder.

"For what it's worth," she said, quietly. "I'm sorry for your loss. Erie was like a sister to me – to almost all of us, I daresay. I feel the same pain you do."

CJ chose not to respond.

* * *

The recovery process of the colony was going along rather well. The added manpower necessitated some changes to how their food was going to be acquired; fortunately, one of the crypto-sleepers had some knowledge of agriculture, and came prepared with some potato seeds. A small spot was marked out for growing crops, and soon little bushes could be seen growing there. All of the damage to the buildings themselves was repaired, and the defenses were packed away into the workshop, despite protests by certain people that keeping them there would be a much better idea.

The defenses themselves had been upgraded somewhat, too; after the debacle that was the pirate raid, one of the sleepers skilled with electronics – whose nickname was Muffalo for some reason – had drawn up some blueprints for automated turrets, able to be deployed near-instantly, though they needed a relatively large amount of power compared to the current generators' output. The colony had enough materials to deploy up to nine, but only four had been built so as not to spend all of the colony's steel and components.

CJ took a single moment to appreciate the work that had been put in to prevent another raid disaster from occurring, looked over the workshop interior, and then stepped outside for a break.

He closed the metal door behind him, but was surprised to see the centipede right in front of him when he turned around.

"Oh!" CJ exclaimed, in a tone of polite surprise. "Hello there."

" _Greetings, CJ,_ " the centipede replied, graciously gliding back about a meter to give him some space. " _How are you doing? Have you finished that sniper rifle of yours_ _yet_ _?_ "

"Yeah, I'm trying. That boob, Voort, her sniper blueprints are total crap. I tried to hook up the trigger to the firing mechanism, and it damn near took my finger off when I tried to pull it. What the hell kind of gun is that supposed to be?" The centipede gave a light chuckle.

" _Are you sure it was_ _Voort'_ _s fault?_ " The mech sounded rather amused.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure," he responded, glaring at the mech.

The pair lapsed into silence. CJ put his hands in his pockets. A few, long moments passed, the outsider and the centipede thinking about nothing in particular.

Until, suddenly, the centipede gave a deep rumble, rousing CJ out from his trance.

"Huh? What, what was that?" He asked, uncertainly.

" _Eh, sorry. Just wanted to get your attention,_ " the centipede replied. " _Ehm… are… are you feeling alright?_ " CJ gave a huff of annoyance at that.

"Yes, I'm feeling fine. Don't worry." His tone of voice brokered no further discussion. The centipede did not seem to notice.

" _Are you sure? You don't seem so fine to me._ "

CJ frowned and gave an exasperated sigh, before looking up with a neutral expression. "Yeah, actually. There's… a lot of things to do, now that we've got all those new guys. I mean, just the weapon manufacturing alone I expect to take me until next quadrum. That, with everything else we have to do to keep this place running, it doesn't leave me much time to grieve." He shrugged, and offered the mech a weak smile. "I suppose it hasn't really sunk in yet."

The mech gave a deep, thoughtful rumble. " _Indeed..._ " It paused, before shifting in place slightly. " _Hey, CJ? I have an idea._ "

CJ looked up, eyes searching the giant mech. "Huh? What is it?"

" _How many guns of yours have you finished?_ " The question took CJ off guard.

"Ehm… uh, two? A sniper rifle and a pump shotgun. Why?" CJ asked, somewhat guardedly.

" _Do you feel like getting revenge?_ " The centipede asked plainly.

CJ stared at the mech for a while, expression unreadable. He stayed that way for an uncomfortably long time, so much so that the centipede was starting to squirm unconsciously.

Then, CJ blinked. Once, then twice.

"When can we get going?"


	3. Negotiations

"Where's the chemfuel? I can't see it," CJ asked. The mech pointed to a corner with his cannon, and CJ followed it to see a few bright red jerry cans. He gave a grateful nod to him before moving over and picking one up.

" _Is that everything?_ " The mech asked.

"Should be, yeah. They are restrained, right?" CJ asked back, as he exited the workshop, the mech following him through the entrance specifically made for something his size. He responded only with a rumble that CJ took to be an affirmative, and grunted appreciatively.

As the mech explained to him when he first committed to revenge, after the raid on the colony was repelled, some of the pirates decided to simply surrender, apparently valuing their lives more than whatever the colony would have had to offer them. A few of them were also captured when the crypto-sleepers looked through the fallen pirates, having survived the colonists' attacks and the subsequent blood loss.

However, the mech (who was the unofficial leader of the sleepers, even if CJ thought it should be otherwise) had decided that wasting resources on building a prisoner block was pointless, when 'there was a perfectly acceptable ancient room in a hill somewhere or other…' So the sleepers, with some help from Sarah, had disassembled all but one of the caskets, the other having been hauled away to the workshop, and replaced them with cheap beds, one for each of the captured pirates.

The current plan was for CJ and the mech to interrogate the group for any valuable information that might help to find where Erie was being kept. Assuming, of course, that she was still, in fact, alive.

" _So, CJ,_ " the mech began, as the pair were walking through the forest towards the casket room. " _How are we going to do this?_ "

CJ gave a low hum. "Hmm… let's have you be the good guy. Might throw them off a bit. If not, well, we can always burn 'em."

" _Will that really be necessary?_ " The mech asked, faint concern in his voice.

"Come on," CJ replied. "If having the big, fuck-off mech with a goddamn inferno cannon be the compassionate one won't at least confuse them, then I don't know what will." The mech just rumbled, unwilling to vocalise that that wasn't what he was referring to.

The pair walked in silence for a long while, as the forest opened up to a clearing with a few berry bushes in the middle. A hill with a door in it was to their left, and the mech started gliding over to it, CJ following after.

"I don't remember this thing having a door in it," CJ said.

" _Yes, the sleepers put one in. Otherwise the pirates would just escape again, wouldn't they,_ " the mech explained, somewhat condescendingly. CJ rolled his eyes.

The mech butted the door open with his cannon, and disappeared inside. CJ didn't follow, put off by the lack of light, but entered shortly after the mech lit a torch inside. As he stepped inside, he noticed the floor in the tunnel had been smoothed.

The mech led him to another door, a ways in to the tunnel, where he had first dug through that granite wall. He gestured towards it, letting CJ open it first, and so he did.

As the door opened, the light from the torch flooded the room, enough to allow the pair to see four people – three male, one female – huddled around each other, hands tied in front of them. As soon as they saw who had entered their room, they jumped away from each other, scowling. Their scowls did not abate by much when the mech entered behind him and shut the door.

"Look who it is," one of the pirates spat. "Finally come to check up on your slaves, huh?" CJ turned to regard him for a moment, before blinking and turning back to set the chemfuel down near the door. The mech gave a threatening rumble to shut him up.

"Not exactly," CJ replied calmly, turning back to the group. "I was hoping for a nice, civil discussion with you four."

"That why you brought your damn toy with ya?" Another pirate said.

"I did say 'hoping for'," CJ replied easily. "Why do you think I brought the fuel with me?" The pirate didn't reply, in what CJ took to be intimidation but which was actually confusion.

"What the hell do you want then?" The female asked.

CJ crossed his arms, and blinked. Once, then twice. "It's really very simple. We believe your friends have taken one of our friends. I want to know where you would have taken her." One of the pirates – who CJ saw to have eerily reminiscent green spiked hair – gave a mocking laugh, and stepped forward.

"Are you an idiot? How would we know where they took-" He was interrupted by CJ slapping him in the face.

"I suggest you pay attention," he scolded in an overly condescending tone. "I said where you _would have_ taken her." The pirate CJ had slapped reeled back, fuming.

"Man, how the fuck am I supposed to know where the hell they've gone to? They could have gone anywhere with that whor-" CJ slapped him again, this time with considerably more force. The pirate fell to the floor.

"Remember who you're talking to, fuckwit. I don't take well to people insulting my friends, especially from the likes of you." The pirate was helped up by his fellow prisoners. CJ turned to another one. "Where did they take her?"

"Why the fuck should we tell you anything, fucker?" They responded, venom in their voice.

CJ actually paused at that, glaring at the group. The group glared back at him, daring him to do anything. The mech was about to vocalise before CJ inhaled sharply.

He blinked. Once, then twice.

Then he spun on his heel and picked up the jerry can.

" _CJ..._ " the centipede warned. CJ gave no reply. The pirates watched on, bewilderment temporarily taking over their anger. That bewilderment quickly turned to fear as CJ turned around, opened the cap, and threw chemfuel directly on the guy with green hair.

"Now then." CJ sounded eerily sanguine. "Perhaps somebody would like to tell me what they know? Or should I get out my lighter as well?"

Silence.

"No? Nothing?"

More silence. CJ stepped forward to the green-haired prisoner. "Am I really going to have-" He was interrupted by the pirate spitting in his face.

CJ took a step back in surprise. He blinked – once, then twice – and then punched the offending pirate in the face as hard as he could.

So hard, in fact, that his head caved in, and he fell to the floor, dead.

He looked at the corpse in disdain, and looked back up to the group, now one member short. "Anyone else?"

"U-uhm…" the female pirate stuttered. "I-I think the boss might know where she is..."

"The boss?" CJ asked.

"Y-yeah. He… he has a console, you can call him on it."

"Is that all?"

Silence.

CJ sighed. "Very well." He then turned to the mechanoid, who was (presumably) staring at him. "Thank you, centipede. You may leave." He stood, staring at CJ for a while longer, before hesitantly turning and leaving.

CJ turned back to the group.

"Well. You've all been very helpful to me," he said sardonically, kicking the jerry can by his feet over, letting chemfuel spill out of it. He took care to avoid letting it get to his shoes. "However, I shall have to take my leave now." He took out a cigarette and a glitterworld lighter, ignoring the protestations of fear coming from the pirates. He lit the cigarette, put the lighter back into his pocket, and took a single, long drag on the cig. "Good day."

He flicked the cigarette onto the corpse of the green-haired guy, and it immediately burst into flames. CJ spun on his heel, ignoring the screams of the three prisoners, and marched out of the room, locking the granite door behind him.

The screams were muffled behind the heavy pair of doors, but did not abate fully, growing fainter as CJ walked unhurriedly towards the exit. He did not reflect much on their fate as he reached the end of the longer-than-it-seemed hallway and stepped outside.

An uncomfortable silence descended immediately after the door closed behind him, the centipede waiting for him to his left. He pointedly did not vocalise to him for a while, though CJ didn't much care either way as he walked, still unhurried, back towards the colony.

CJ trudged through some mud, the centipede following him around the patch so as not to get stuck in it. For a while, the sounds of boots and faint mechanical whirring were the only sounds in the forest, or at least the ones that CJ could make out.

CJ began to hum gently. Neither of them chose to discuss the issue hanging over their heads like a portent of doom.

* * *

CJ stepped through the door to the new laboratory, taking care to shut the door behind him so as to not let the cold in. Dusting himself off in an overly pretentious manner, he looked up to see the centipede, along with Voort, already waiting for him next to the comms console.

"Took your time," Voort said in her usual cold, dissatisfied tone. "I was about to leave for a piss."

"Gee, thanks for demonstrating your boundless generosity once again," CJ snarked, walking over to the pair and resting his elbow on the console. "I'll be sure to remember this moment next time I'm handing out our guns."

" _Don't overdo it, CJ,_ " the centipede warned, in a mock-scolding tone. He then gestured to the console. " _Now, I believe we have a call to make. Would you like to do the honour?_ "

"Don't mind if I do," CJ answered. As he thumbed at the controls, the centipede glided off to the side so as not to appear in the frame. The console sputtered static for but a few moments, quickly dissipating into silence. CJ deftly manipulated some dials on the console, turning one up almost all the way, before the screen shot into life, causing CJ to look up at it in surprise.

No sooner had he done so, he saw a head of hair under a hat, facing away from him. It appeared that 'the boss' wasn't expecting any callers. Voort snickered, quietly, but it was enough to register. The man on the screen jerked, and then turned around.

CJ was met with a man he would later recall to look almost completely generic. He had dark, short hair obscured underneath a worn cowboy hat and dim hazel eyes. As soon as he saw who was calling though, those eyes lit up in cruel flames.

"Oh? Who's this?" The man on the screen demanded, in a faux affable tone. CJ narrowed his eyes.

"The name's CJ," he said. The mech turned his head to look at him, in what looked like surprise. "Remember it."

"Hmm," the pirate lord hummed. "No promises. I don't keep a list of my victims."

CJ ignored the threat. "I hear some of your men made off with some… valuable goods, after a raid on us. Do you happen to know anything about that?" The pirate snickered.

" _Christ, you sound like a pussy..._ " he said, mostly to himself. "No. We've attacked a lot of people in our time. Like I said, we don't keep track."

CJ growled. The mech chose that moment to enter the frame, rumbling along with him. The pirate swung his gaze across to the mech, then back to CJ. "Fine, then. A girl, by the name of Erie. About two weeks ago. Know her?"

The pirate blinked. "Erie…?" He paused for a second, mulling something over in his head. "You mean that bitch that arrived here two days ago? Teenage, brunette?" He gave an evil smile when CJ nodded. "Tough luck, pal. The only thing her feistiness got her here in Suffering town was a shallow grave. You'll have to look elsewhere."

CJ gave no reaction to his words, at first. He continued to stare at the screen for a while, eyes locked with the pirate. He blinked, once, and then disconnected from the call.

Voort gave a helpless look to the mech, one which he returned.

CJ turned to them. Neither of the two could discern anything from his expression. "Fuck," he said.

Voort blinked. The mech gave a low rumble. "Fuck, indeed," they both said in unison, then looked at each other sadly.

Eventually, Voort made to leave. The centipede followed behind her. CJ turned around to the comms console and stood staring at it for a while, mulling over the call. He blinked, once.

An idea began to form in his mind. Looking up at the console's screen, he fiddled with the dials some more, until another image of a man began to form.

"Prime Councillor Hawke," CJ said politely, in an attempt to get his attention. The man on the screen turned around, revealing a middle-aged man with deep green eyes and silver, swept hair. His face contorted into mild surprise, then obvious distrust when he saw who was calling.

"Ah, Carl," Hawke said, in a tone that didn't exactly imply friendliness. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I won't waste your time, Councillor," CJ began affably. "I need your help." Hawke's eyebrows raised, before he gestured for CJ to continue. "One of our colonists has been abducted by the pirate gang. From what I've been told, she's been killed. I would like your help in recovering her body from the pirates."

Hawke scratched at the stubble on his chin, frowning. "Uhm… I don't know what to tell you, Carl. As much as my sympathy goes out to you, we don't have any rea-"

"Please," CJ interrupted, his desperation giving Hawke pause. "I cannot begin to tell you how important this matter is to m- ...to us. I would forever be in your debt."

Hawke took a moment to swallow heavily. "…I cannot rely on goodwill alone, you understand."

CJ understood the message clearly. "Name your price, Councillor." Hawke was taken aback at CJ's bluntness. He took a moment to clear his throat, stalling for time.

"That would depend on what exactly you want us to do for you," he said.

"She was taken directly to the pirate boss," CJ explained. "A settlement known as Suffering Town. I would like help in distracting what defenses they have there so that we can infiltrate their complex and recover her body."

Hawke blinked. "That… that would not come cheap. Township is… quite heavily defended."

"Oh?" CJ was surprised at his implied knowledge. "You know what the pirates have there?"

"Indeed," Hawke replied, voice low. "Some of our trade caravans had passed nearby a few months back. We sent scouts to find out what happened after they didn't arrive when they were supposed to. The four who survived _that_ said that base of theirs was home to at least sixty of the scum. Turrets, as well. It's a miracle they got back at all." Hawke cast his eyes downward, unhappy at the reminder.

"Hmm," CJ hummed. "Perhaps we can do each other a favour here." Hawke cast his eyes back up at the screen.

"Oh?" "We can get our colonist back, and you get to keep whatever is in the town itself, and get rid of the threat to your caravans there." CJ made an offer.

Hawke frowned, and shook his head. "There's no guarantee that there'll be anything there," he countered.

CJ simply shrugged. "So a down-payment will be necessary. Big deal. If that is the case, at least you'll get something out of it." Hawke seemed to consider this, lowering his head in thought. CJ waited politely for a reply.

Eventually, Hawke looked up at the screen again. "What would you be willing to offer us?"

CJ smiled politely. "We have silver, steel, wood… some weapons, armour…" Hawke looked sceptical. CJ changed tacks. "…I'm sure we can spare some food or medicine also." Hawke's eyes lit up at the last two. CJ smiled to himself.

"Ten days' worth of food and three thousand dollars worth of medicine," Hawke proposed. CJ shook his head. "No can do. We can offer fifteen days' worth and two thousand instead," he suggested.

Hawke paused, clearly working something out in his head. Eventually, he nodded. "Yes, I think that will be acceptable."

"Excellent," CJ said. "I'm glad we could come to an agreement."

"Likewise," Hawke replied, smiling easily. CJ returned the gesture. "When shall we arrange for the assault?"

CJ hummed again. "Hmm… I think a quadrum or two from now. It'll give us time to replenish our stocks, as well as for both of us to prepare."

Hawke nodded easily. "Very well. I shall arrange for an attack on the first of Septober. Will that be acceptable?" CJ nodded. "Great. I will make the necessary preparations. I'll call you again nearer to the time."

The two bid each other farewell, before Hawke cut the connection. CJ blinked. Once, then twice. Then a third time.

He turned around. Rubbing at his forehead, contemplating how best to reveal the deal made, if at all. When he brought his hand down from his face, he was met by the sight of the centipede standing near the door, looking at him. CJ jumped in surprise, then scowled at him.

"How long have you been standing there?" CJ demanded. The centipede gave a low hum in embarrassment.

" _Uh…_ _I may_ _or may not_ _have neglected to leave in the first place..._ " the mech ground out, almost too low to hear. CJ just shook his head at him, the scowl lessening.

"Fine, whatever. I guess it'll save me from having to explain the situation to the others." CJ gestured for the mech to come closer, inviting him in. The centipede did not budge. "Damn it, but I was not hoping for today to turn out like it has..." CJ rubbed at his temples, frowning.

" _Yeah, I can imagine,_ " the mech said. A silence ensued, as he politely waited for CJ to work out his frustration on his forehead. Eventually, CJ looked back up, to find the mech still awkwardly standing at the door.

"...Uh, did you need something?" CJ asked, hesitantly. " _Yeah,"_ the mech said, also hesitant. He finally glided closer to CJ, though still a couple paces apart. " _I, uh… wanted to talk to you about-"_

"The chamber, right?" CJ guessed. The mech nodded, now rumbling.

" _Yeah, the chamber,"_ the mech ground out. His oddly-tired tone was replaced by something more aggressive. " _You burned those people alive, CJ. That's a horrendous way to die. Couldn't have just shot them? Y'know, I thought the chemfuel was just an intimidation tactic, splash some in their face, wave a lighter around. I heard_ screams _, CJ._ "

The mech sighed deeply. " _Whatever. I want to know why you did it._ "

CJ was silent for a bit, expecting the mech to continue with his accusations. When none were forthcoming, he sighed.

"They deserved it," he replied simply.

The centipede was not impressed. " _They did? What for? Not liking the people who killed their friends and comrades?_ "

"They took her," he answered, in the same easy yet disinterested tone.

" _And this warrants being burned alive?_ " The centipede did not relent.

"Yep," CJ said. The centipede was silent for a moment, unsure how to reply to that.

CJ continued. "No one is going to miss them anyway. They're just pirates, after all."

The pair were silent for a while. CJ suddenly frowned heavily, whipping his gaze back up to him. "They took her, goddam it! Since when did you care about the lives of murderers anyway?"

The centipede gave a low, contemptuous hum. " _Since the moment you became one._ "

CJ had opened his mouth, readying another tirade against them, but then the words of the mech reached his mind, and he shut his mouth awkwardly, casting his eyes downwards. The mech glared at him until CJ finally muttered, "...So I see."

" _Hmm,_ " the centipede grunted. He let a few moments pass to clear the bleak mood between them, and then turned around and rumbled, leaving the building.

CJ stood still as he did so, alternating between staring at him and the floor. He blinked, once, then twice, then a third time. Eventually, he sighed heavily, trudging after him.

The screen of the comms console was left blank, though still glowing a dim green.

* * *

CJ was left working at the new fields the sleepers had set up to grow crops. Everyone else had gone to the barracks for lunch, but CJ didn't feel particularly hungry after the debacle in the comms room. Instead, he was weeding the potatoes by himself, throwing the dandelions and other random weeds away to a small pile behind him.

CJ didn't think himself very good at growing plants, but he at least knew enough to plant and harvest basic stuff, like rice and potatoes. Healroot, though, was still beyond him, and indeed to all but one of the colony – the resident crypto-sleeper professional gardener. None of the crops were ready yet, though, so he had to resign himself to tidy up the fields a little.

He had been working away for a little while, the pile of weeds growing steadily, when he heard footsteps behind him. He stood up, stretched his back out to get the kinks out, and turned around to find Sarah staring at him. As soon as they locked eyes, Sarah turned hers toward the floor.

"Oh, hey, Sarah," CJ said, wiping sweat off his brow. "Did you need something?"

"N-no," she stammered, fiddling with her hands. "Just, um… just wanted to chat."

"Oh, okay," CJ said, narrowing his eyes ever-so-slightly. He turned back to the potato field, and crouched back down. "What about?"

Sarah walked up next to him, crouching down also. She turned to look at him. CJ didn't return the gesture. "The, um, the mech said… he said something about..."

"God, not you too!" CJ cried, now turning to her, and leapt to his feet angrily. Sarah, dazed by his outburst, lost her balance and flailed her arms to not fall over. "Damn it, did he tell you? Did he tell everyone?!"

Sarah regained her balance, and slowly got to her feet. "N-no, he d-didn't say, exactly… it's just that, you punched someone…"

CJ blinked. Once, then twice, then another time. His frown was replaced by a look of confusion.

"Punched? What?"

Sarah regained some of her confidence at seeing CJ calm down. "Yeah. He said, um." She laughed nervously. "Well, he didn't say _exactly_ , but…" She mouthed something, though no voice came. Eventually, she looked up at him, and said, in a meek tone of voice, "Can I feel your arm?"

CJ was somewhat taken aback at this seeming non-sequiteur. He blinked, but quickly crossed his arms and smirked. "Sheesh, dear. At least you could take me out to dinner first."

Sarah blushed. "No! It's n-not like that… I just..." Her protestations didn't much convince CJ, but he relented all the same.

"Alright then." He held out his right arm towards her, palm outstretched. She stepped forward gingerly, eyes locked to it as if in awe. She slowly reached out to touch the arm.

Then, all at once, she grabbed on like a vise. Sarah's hand felt warm, springy, like flesh. CJ's arm felt much harder.

"Wow..." Sarah cooed. She had never seen a real bionic arm on somebody before. CJ smiled at her.

"It's not as cool as they make it out to be, trust me," CJ snarked. Sarah looked up at her, started as if she just realised what she was doing, and jumped back.

"Sorry, sorry! I didn't mean-"

CJ cut her apologies off. "Don't worry. It's fine."

Sarah stammered for a while longer, but eventually came to a stop, continuing more intelligibly. "It's that… I mean…. I've never seen a bionic like that..."

CJ nodded. "Prostophile, right?"

Sarah hummed. "I prefer the term 'transhumanist'," she rebuked.

CJ snorted. "Sure. You say po-tay-to, I say po-tah-to."

The two stood for but a moment longer, before CJ turned back to the field, stooping down and ripping a few blades of grass out from the soil. Sarah stood behind him for a bit, watching him work, before deciding she'd seen enough, and began walking back to the colony proper.

Though her fascination with bionic limbs was intense indeed, Sarah couldn't help but return again and again to the thought of how the centipede had figured out it was indeed bionic.


	4. Raiding Pirates

**A/N: Sorry about the delay. Got bogged down with life stuff. Thankfully I managed to finally finish off this story. Hopefully I can move on to some other stuff now. Enjoy!**

* * *

The steel door to the workshop clanged open. CJ looked briefly up from his inventory work to see Sarah, with a large bunch of healroot in her arms. She took a moment to throw him a glare, then threw the roots in her arms onto the pile next to her and walked out. CJ just shook his head, crossing out a number written on the papers in front of him and writing a slightly bigger one in its place.

It was now the middle of summer. The sun was out high in the sky, casting bright rays down on the earth. The colony's meagre air conditioning (really just wooden boxes full of water) was getting a work-out. A perfect time to go out and harvest healroot as it ripened, CJ thought at the time, two or so weeks ago.

That was, of course, ignoring the fact that wild healroot was harder to find than a friendly mechanoid around these parts. Usually, they were found on their own, or next to another one if you were lucky. Anything more than three healroots in one spot was mostly the realm of fever dreams. That didn't stop CJ, though, who had more or less press-ganged the colony into his scheme of finding enough healroot to appease Hawke's request. The food, at least, was easy enough to get; the potato patch had been expanded, and the sleeper in charge of it was confident that it would produce enough to satisfy Hawke, and then some.

That left the healroot. The wild variety could not be domesticated in any reasonable amount of time, and the sleepers did not pack any pre-domesticated healroot seeds. That left finding it out in the wild. An easy task, CJ had assumed, if it weren't for two factors – its rarity, and the fact that it was the middle of summer, and thus _damned hot_ out there.

So CJ had elected to stay inside and take stock of the supplies that people were taking in and out. It was vital work, he had argued, because nobody wanted to be out there for longer than necessary. Besides, the stocks hadn't been updated for a long time – the amounts on the sheets did not match up with the actual stockpile until CJ had updated them. Most of the colony did not quite seem to agree with his line of thinking, though. Something about shirking the really hard work.

CJ turned his attention back to the stocks. The food stock was nearly ready, as the sleeper had predicted. The healroot was… less so. CJ had estimated the value of their collection so far at roughly one thousand and three hundred dollars, just over two-thirds of the required total. CJ was confident that they could find enough before Septober rolled around, though. It was getting closer and closer.

A knock on the door interrupted CJ's thoughts. He looked back to see the door opening, revealing the mechanoid. He greeted the man with a wave of his cannon, a gesture which CJ returned.

"Hey there," he said, getting up from his seat. "What's up?"

" _Hello,_ " the mech replied. " _I've found something that may interest you_." The door remained open. CJ could feel the heat entering the room from the opposite side of the room. He paid it no mind.

"What's going on?" CJ said, concerned.

The mech waved him over and turned around, expecting him to follow. He did. " _You remember how you found me in that bunker in the mountain?_ " They were now outside, the door closing shut behind them. The mech began moving away from the colony. CJ followed him.

"Yeah? What about it?" CJ wasn't sure what to make of the conversation so far.

" _I've managed to find another one. It's a little ways from here, buried in a hill_ _two_ _kilometres from here._ _The mechanoids inside reactivated a short while ago._ "

"...And?" CJ asked, puzzled. "What, are you gonna tell me they're like you? Friendly?"

" _I doubt it._ " The mech stopped at the outskirts of a patch of trees, and turned around to face him. " _Not to you humans, at least. They'll see you as, well… outsiders._ "

"Hmm," CJ hummed. He could see where the mech was going with this. "I'm guessing you might fare better?"

" _Yes,_ " the mech agreed. " _With your permission, I could try to contact them. Maybe see if they'd be amenable to a trade, of some sorts. Who knows._ " The mech tried to shrug, human style, but to CJ it was just another wiggle of its arm cannon. " _Maybe they have some advanced tech they're willing to share._ "

"Now that does sound tempting," CJ said. He didn't mention the thought of asking them for help with the planned assault on the pirate base. "Go ahead."

" _Very well,_ " the mech said. CJ turned to leave, eager to return to the coolness of the warehouse, before he was halted by the mech speaking once more. " _Done._ "

CJ turned, surprised. "Already?"

" _Yes,_ " answered the mech. " _You know, I'm more than just heavy artillery on legs._ "

CJ smirked. "So it would seem. So what did they say?"

" _They have proposed a trade. I transmitted details of our… situation, and as it happens they have some advanced medicine stocked in there. Among other things, of course._ " CJ nodded along. " _In return for their medicine, they want a second centipede model._ "

"Huh?" CJ was shocked. Not to mention their incredible luck… "How the hell are we…" Understanding dawned on his face. "So they want to swap bodies with you? Give them your body for a less useful one?"

The mech paused, sounding genuinely surprised. " _You know, I didn't even think of that. I was thinking a slightly more permanent-_ "

"No," CJ said immediately. "You are a part of this colony. We're not just going to… throw you away, like garbage."

A pause.

The mech gave the sound of clearing their throat. " _They indicate that they would be willing to exchange a Scyther model for my current frame."_

"Excellent," CJ exhaled, relieved. "That'll work."

" _Of course,_ " the mech said. Pausing for a second, it continued. " _I appreciate you accepting me in your community._ "

"Yeah," CJ said, somewhat sheepishly. "Don't mention it."

Clearing his throat and letting the moment pass, he said, "So. Shall we get on with it?"

* * *

It was the first of Septober. The day of the assault had arrived. Most of the colony had gone with CJ and the mech, who was now in a shiny scyther frame, along to the point where they'd be meeting the outlander forces. True to his word, CJ had brought the supplies Hawke had asked, and gave them to the outlanders. They had then begun to draw up an assault on the pirate stronghold.

It had taken them most of the day to do so. Just tallying up the supplies CJ had given them set them back to early afternoon, and by the time the plans had been drawn up and finalised, and everything (and everyone) was ready to go, it was close to midnight.

Finally, at the end of it all, CJ stood leaning against a makeshift table in a tent, near the pirate settlement, staring intently at the papers in front of him. A woman in a battered flak coat and a crooked metal helmet was doing much the same on the opposite end. CJ didn't care to catch her name, but it was immediately made obvious she was the commander of the outlander forces. Some quick introductions were made, some lengthier than others, and then the two groups joined together to prepare for battle.

"So, a diversionary attack first across the river from the south-east, then a second assault from the south-west, and then you come in from the north. Is that it?" The commander tore her eyes from the table to CJ, who nodded.

"Yes. It'll fall on you to keep as much of their attention on you as possible. After we recover our target, we will fire our flare. That'll be your signal to crush these idiots. We'll do as much damage to them from behind as we can."

The woman nodded as well. "We'll do our best." She offered a hand to CJ, and the two shook hands. "Good luck."

"Likewise," CJ replied, already moving out of the tent.

The mech was waiting for him outside. " _What's the plan?_ "

CJ paused for a second. He still wasn't used to its new body. The sleek white points and curves of the scyther were much more unsettling than a centipede's bumbling size. Shaking his head to snap out of it, he said, "The outlanders will move first, across the river and then to the side. Once the pirates start defending against them, we'll go in from behind and get her body. Then we give the signal and charge in to their main lines. We'll surround them, and kill 'em all." He nodded to himself. "It'll have to be timed just right. We don't have any way to communicate with each other other than the flare, and getting close enough to talk."

The scyther hummed. " _I suppose it's as good a plan as any._ "

"Good." CJ smirked. "They'll never know what hit them. Let's move."

* * *

Forty minutes later, CJ, along with the scyther and a couple of the sleepers, were moving towards the settlement. Nobody was there to stop them, as planned. He could make out the sounds of gunfire from a distance, punctuated every now and then by screams and shouts from panicked pirates.

"Here's the plan," CJ quietly said. He assumed everyone was listening; it was too dark to make his men out. "Since we don't know which building she's in, we'll have to search them all. We'll split up in pairs. I'll be with the mech, searching the biggest one. The rest of you, divide yourselves up how you like, and search the rest. Try not to alert anyone that we're here." The group nodded collectively, pairs already forming within. "Get to it."

The scyther moved to CJ's side, and turned to look at him. " _After you._ "

Moving up to the door, CJ counted down from three with his fingers. At one, he quickly opened the door, stepping aside to let the scyther in first. Satisfied with the lack of gunfire inside, he stepped in himself.

The scyther was looking at him when he came inside. " _Nothing._ "

True enough, the room was empty, save for a pair of beds against the wall to their left, and an electric lamp still lighting the room up. Another door stood at the opposite end of the room. "Move up," CJ said. Again, the pair stacked up against the door. The scyther again entered first, with CJ following shortly.

"Hello," a man at the other end of the room said. CJ quickly took aim at him, faster than even he thought, with a brand new bolt-action rifle loaned to him by the outlanders. Before he could shoot, he was interrupted. "Ah ah ah, I wouldn't do that if I were you."

CJ took one look at him, and his face split into a terrible scowl. He had dark, short hair obscured underneath a worn cowboy hat and dim hazel eyes. CJ recognised him immediately; he was the one at the other end of the comms console. "And why would that be?" he replied, with barely restrained rage.

The man only smiled. Pressing a button on his waist, the door behind him suddenly opened, bringing with it several more pirates who quickly formed up, guns at the ready. Along with them came…

"Erie?!" CJ exclaimed.

The pirate lord lowered his head slightly, still smiling. He gestured to the person restraining her, who pushed her towards him. "That's right. Aren't you glad I saved her for this exact moment?" Pulling out a small auto-pistol, he continued. "Now then. Since I doubt you want what I'm threatening to do to happen, here's what _you_ are going to do." Slowly, taking his time, he took aim at Erie, pressing the barrel against the back of her head, forcing her to her knees in the process. Blindfolded and with her arms restrained by a thick length of rope, all she could do was shake in fear.

"Let her go!" CJ shouted. Looking down the sights of the rifle, he knew how easy it would be to exert the small amount of pressure needed to pull the trigger. Before he had the chance to try, the scyther forcibly lowered the gun in his hands with the blade on its hand.

The pirate lord just smiled at him. "What you'll do is go outside, with all of my friends here-" he gestured with his free hand at the thugs to his sides, "-and you will call the attack off. Then, you will leave and never dare harm us again. In exchange, I won't execute her in front of you, or vice versa. Both of you will get to live. Quite a bargain, huh?"

CJ could only scowl at him. The scyther turned to him, speaking in hushed tones. " _CJ, we both know you won't be able to free her now. They'd turn you into Swiss cheese if you tried!_ " CJ did not acknowledge him at all.

"I'm not going to ask you again. Let. Her. Go."

The pirate shook his head in mock disappointment. "Persistent, eh. But I'm afraid I can't do that."

CJ raised his rifle again. At the same time, the pirate's bodyguards did the same. Each stared the other down. The pirate lord tsked. "I suppose that's a no, then? What a shame."

The door behind the pirate suddenly burst open again, to reveal a pair of CJ's sleepers. They took one look at the situation, then, before the pirates could readjust their focus, opened fire.

For a few seconds, there was complete pandemonium in the room. Intense gunfire filled the room, the bangs, flashes, and smoke pouring from ill-maintained weapons frustrating any attempt to make logical sense of the situation.

Soon, the gunfire slowed, then stopped altogether. CJ scanned the room for any more muzzle flashes quickly. Finding none, he then focused inwards, checking for any wounds received that the battle might have obscured. Quickly flexing his limbs, he found that he wasn't hit anywhere at all. No bullet wounds, no slashes or bruises, nothing.

He found himself kneeling, still pointing his rifle forwards. Using it as a crutch, he shakily got to his feet, just in time for the rest of the sleepers burst in through the door at the back of the room behind him.

"CJ?" One sleeper asked in disbelief, hurrying over to him. He waved him off.

"I'm… urgh, I'm fine." Shaking his head to clear his sudden onset of fatigue, he gestured to the bodies. "Get anything useful they might have." The sleeper nodded, and together with his fellows got to work scavenging the guns and other items the fallen pirates had on them.

CJ suddenly remembered what he was doing. He quickly scanned the room for Erie, finding her in the same place she still was. He quickly ran over to her.

"Erie?" Not being able to see, she still looked up to try to place the voice. "Is it… is it really you?"

She let out a very shaky breath. "...CJ?"

CJ gasped for breath, trying to undo the ropes restraining her. "Oh God, it's really you! You're alive!" Finished with untying the rope, CJ threw it to the ground, moving back in front of her and taking off her blindfold.

Erie looked back at him, unable to speak.

CJ offered his arm to her, which she gratefully took. "My God, I thought you were dead..." The two embraced. In the middle of a pile of bodies, in a room of a building that was in a pirate stronghold, two lovers were once again united.

"Come on," CJ whispered in her ear, feeling the heat radiating off her body like a star. "Let's get you home."

"I'd like that," Erie whispered back.

* * *

"Good work," CJ said to the outlander commander, shaking hands. The sun was now just peeking above the horizon, casting long shadows across the plains they were in. "There was barely anyone there. Made our work a lot easier."

The commander nodded, smiling slightly. "I'm glad to know this place won't be a thorn in our side any longer." Her smile fell, to be replaced by a grim expression. "Did… did you get what you were looking for?"

CJ grinned at her. "Damn straight. Turned out better than I hoped, too. She's alive and well."

That took the outlander by surprise. "Really? We all thought she was killed." CJ nodded, to which she shook her head. "Well, I'll be damned."

CJ chuckled. "Sounds about right."

"So everyone made it out alive?" The outlander asked, now in higher spirits. The question, however, made CJ deflate considerably, and she immediately regretted asking.

He sighed and looked down to the floor. "Not quite. The centi- um, scyther, it…" CJ blinked. Once, then twice. "He charged forward at the pirate boss, in the room where Erie was. He was killed in the process." His eyes raised to meet the outlander's. "Took out quite a few himself, though. He probably saved my life doing so."

"I see," she replied simply. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah," said CJ.

There was a moment's silence between them, before the outlander cleared her throat. CJ saw a rather large crack on her helmet. Evidently, she preferred to lead from the front.

"Well, I'm prepared to call this mission a success." She nodded towards him. "Thanks to you, our caravans will be a little safer in the future. If there's anything you need in the future, my people and I will be glad to help you."

"Thank you," CJ said, grateful.

"Don't mention it." The two shook hands again, and the outlander departed. CJ stood still for a few moments, gathering his thoughts, before turning and making his way back to the group of colonists waiting for him.


End file.
